obsession
by Mikutachi
Summary: Taemin is used to being the boy on the sidelines, with all the attention in the world except from one person. Finally, the person he wants sees him and it escalates to something he didn't expect. SHINee. MxM lovin.
1. cannotwin

Taemin knows what it is to be alone in a crowded room. To be surrounded by people shouting your name, every eye watching you, but somehow still feel completely alone. But he doesn't complain. In fact, he's almost gotten used to it. He used to want fame so much he could taste it, so much that he dreamed about it. He would practice his dancing until he was so exhausted that he couldn't stand, because in his mind in order for his name, his face to be known, he had to be the best.

But it no longer fazes him when a person on the street knows his name and his face, or the kids in school whisper behind their hands. He no longer wants the attention he so desired before, because it's so easy to get.

Easy to get with the exception, of course, from one person. And of course, it's the one person he wants any attention from. And whenever he thinks about it, he feels frustrated and upset, ready to cry.

In fact, he finds it hard to stomach.

He knows he's not supposed to have feelings like this, not for his hyung. Not for a boy.

And yet, he keeps building himself up and letting himself get knocked down by the vicious, unwinnable circle he subjects himself to get a glance, a glimmer, a sentence from that once person.

Prepare, perform, reject, repeat.

But there's nothing. It's always nothing. And Taemin isn't sure why he keeps trying.

He read once, somewhere, that to continue to do something over and over with the same result while expecting a different result is the very definition of insanity.

And so, Taemin has concluded that he must be insane. After all, he cannot win.

* * *

_next:kimkibum_


	2. kimkibum

Kim Kibum.

The two words, three syllables reverberate in Taemin's mind on a daily, hourly, minutely basis, his own personal symphony. He wants so badly Kibum's attention, does whatever he can to try and win it.

And one day, he gets it.

Taemin isn't sure, completely, how it happens, but he thinks it must be because he did something right, although he's rather unsure what it might be.

* * *

_next:firstglance_


	3. firstglance

It starts with one glance- one careless, honey-gold, warm, longing glance. And it lasts less than a second; Taemin looks away first.

And suddenly, the Kibum who is called Key is awoken quietly to what taemin feels and slides silently into fascination, softly as the rain falls on the streets outside as they stare; an unexpected summer shower.

It doesn't take Kibum long to notice the appealing subtleties of Taemin's character: how he holds a cup of tea; how he tends to favor his left side, causing him to walk always with his head tilted slightly to the right. Suddenly, everything his youngest band mate does and says becomes inherently interesting, enticing to Kibum. The slightest movement of Taemin's hand captures his attention and holds him there, like a predator watching his prey but without the intention of striking. No, under no circumstances can Taemin find out how deeply Kibum thinks of him. Kibum is a wall of steel, albeit a feminine one. He works quietly, gets his way using slight methods.

And because Kibum has never tried anything like this before, he knows he must be extremely careful. Taemin is delicate, he perceives, like a piece of glass.

In a way, Kibum is right. His tiny frame, innocent face, slender fingers. _He hasn't been broken yet_, Kibum thinks, and smiles. _Taemin could shatter at any moment, and I could gather up his pieces_.

But Kibum had never been good at holding back, watching from the shadows.

* * *

_next:accidentalcontact_


	4. accidentalcontact

To Taemin, it's sudden. But to Kibum, it's gradual. He starts with casual brushes of the hand, bumping shoulders in the hallways, At first, it's sufficient to Kibum, but eventually he grows impatient, dissatisfied with "accidental" contact. He wants to touch Taemin when he wants.

How he wants.

Where he wants.

It's a hunger he can't assuage, for fear of breaking Taemin, fear of hurting him.

But at the same time he wishes Taemin's eternal well-being, a part of him wants to make the baby ache, sweat, suffer. Kibum doesn't understand this part of himself that wishes so dearly, but it leaves him all the more hungry.

But even so, Kibum still finds himself hoping, praying, that Taemin hasn't noticed a thing: not the touching, the long glances, the way Kibum chuckles at whatever Taemin says. And he is convinced that his prayers have been answered, and Taemin has noticed nothing.

But Kibum shouldn't assume.

* * *

_next:fate_


	5. fate

In fact, Taemin notices everything. His skin goes aflame when Kibum touches him, and he wishes for more. He averts his eyes when Kibum stares, and he wishes to stare back. He smiles when Kibum laughs at his jokes, and he wishes to hear his voice again and again and again. And, like Kibum, for awhile this is enough. Attention in passing, Taemin calls it in his head. He isn't the sole center of attention, and for awhile that's just fine.

But, also like Kibum, after awhile he grows restless.

And he can feel it down to his very bones, the raw desire that he hadn't known he is capable of experiencing.

Eventually it consumes his mind, consumes Kibum's mind, the thoughts of the other infecting their full capacity with unexpected vigor.

So perhaps it's fate when the other three members are scheduled out of the dorm on an otherwise free Thursday.

* * *

_next:wastenotime_


	6. wastenotime

At first they are composed; sitting on opposite sides of the room from each other: Kibum lounging in the kitchen, Taemin in the living room on the couch. At first glance one might think them strangers, each ignoring the other with a tangible effort.

Kibum taps his fingers on the kitchen table like an addict resisting his drug until he can no longer take it and stands up quickly enough, violently enough, to knock over the chair he had been sitting in. He advances toward the couch where Taemin is (the two rooms are combined, you see), tearing his jacket off and dropping it on the floor in his path to where Taemin sits.

Taemin rises to meet Kibum, stares him straight in the face, a previously unpresent fire burning in his eyes. It surprised Kibum, took him slightly aback.

But it's all good to Kibum, his surprise leaks away quickly. He doesn't waste another moment, grabs Taemin and the two collide in a flurry of breaths and wandering fingers. In a moment, shirts are pulled over shoulders and the two waste no time; in another moment, Taemin is back on the couch, Kibum between his legs.

* * *

_next:_


	7. scream

Taemin groans softly, Kibum grinding relentlessly, hid jeans feeling tighter and tighter with each heavy movement. His hips buck upward impatiently, gritting his teeth and shutting his eyes tightly as Kibum hits a particularly sensitive spot. It takes him a moment but Taemin realizes that he has been holding his breath, cutting off any and all sound that could leave his throat. He isn't sure what could hold him back from vocalizing everything he can, every push and every pull. Perhaps it's the fear of hearing his own voice.

Kibum is massaging Taemin's chest now, running his fingers roughly over the younger's nipples, causing him to let his held breath out in one sharp exhale, digging his fingernails into Kibum's shoulder blades in lieu of letting a moan escape his lips.

Kibum smirks.

The innocent face, exactly as he had imagined it to be, contorting into expressions of strained ecstasy without a sound.

Unacceptable, Kibum decides. He wants to make the maknae scream.

* * *

_next:profanity_


	8. profanity

So he begins to trail his hand downward, the other holding Taemin's head as he kisses him, smoothing his fingers down the younger's smooth torso. His hand stops as he reaches the buttons separating him from what he so desires, fingers snaking around and unbuttoning the obstacle in one swift movement. The tips of his fingers trace a path from Taemin's navel to the waistband of his boxers, teasing the elastic and sliding his fingers just beyond the edge.

He leans and puts his mouth against Taemin's ear, nearly sliding his hand under the waistband. The younger gasps for air beneath him.

"Do you want it, Taeminnie?" Kibum murmurs, tugging at the elastic, a sneer gracing his features. Taemin whimpers, sending shivers down Kibum's spine. He presses himself harder against Taemin, sliding his hand roughly into his boxers. Kibum grits his teeth. "Tell me how much you want it."

Taemin finally opens his mouth, lets out a strangled cry, unable to restrain himself any longer.

"I can't hear you, Taeminnie," Kibum's voice is low. He brushes his fingers against the skin just above the dancer's erection, fingers tasting the flesh with impatient enjoyment, his clothed thrusts becoming more forceful. "Louder."

"Hyung, ngh…" Taemin's voice is diluted with breath, overpowered by moans. "Hyung, just do it, I want it… I want it so fucking bad."

Kibum doesn't have to be told twice, no matter how surprised he is by Taemin's rare slip of profanity.

* * *

_next:circles_


	9. circles

It happens in circles:

Resist, relapse, pretend, repeat.

And every time, Kibum says that it won't happen again. It's nothing serious, after all. Kibum can resist temptation.

_Pretend it never happens, Taeminnie._

And that's when Kibum kisses the younger on the cheek and smiles, because he believes it.

And the funny thing is, Taemin does too.

It's nothing.

And yet no matter how many times they repeat this to each other, they always find themselves right back at the beginning of the circle once more, one cornering the other in a lusty game of cat and mouse.


	10. ridiculous

Kibum has to remind himself more often that he thought he would that this is nothing to be taken seriously. After all, how could it be? An explosive intimate relationship with the boy the public (and he, truthfully) considered for so long to be a son to his mothering.

It truly sounds ridiculous.

_But then_, Kibum thinks, _I'm the Almighty Key. I'm supposed to be ridiculous._

Perhaps it is ridiculous, but even so Kibum finds himself coming to live for the moments (often just minutes- they all have a schedule to keep, after all) he spends all but defiling the maknae. He realizes it sounds terrible, and realizes that if he were even a little older he might be considered a pedophile.

But even if he says it's nothing, the truth is it's quite the opposite for Kibum.

* * *

_next:secret_


	11. secret

The moments he spends with Taemin may not be the most pure form of love, but they are (to Kibum, at least) a form of love nonetheless. He doesn't want the maknae to know that he feels this way most likely still out of fear of hurting him, despite his knowledge of how strongly Taemin already feels about him.

But unfortunately, his double agenda of the secret love while telling the maknae "it's nothing" has no effect on Taemin. He believes Kibum's statements thoroughly and learns to go along with whatever Kibum seems to want, because all Taemin knows how to do is follow.

* * *

_next:interlude_


	12. interlude

There was a point in time when Kibum worried that Taemin took it all seriously. However one day, it was Taemin who jumped Kibum and locked them in the shower and teased Kibum until he screamed. Afterward, Taemin kissed his hyung on the cheek and said the words Kibum usually says to him. Kibum doesn't worry anymore, but maybe he should.

* * *

_next:stray_


	13. stray

And as time goes on and Taemin's hair grows longer, he begins with his heart and soul believing that it's nothing. After all, Kibum told him so. Despite his original affections, how deeply he still cares for Kibum and yearns for his attention and love, Taemin realizes (decides?) that he's never going to truly attain what he's looking for.

After all, it's hard to pin Kibum down, even if he does feel the same way.

So Taemin begins to turn his attention toward another hyung in such a way that might not alert Kibum. He feels almost wrong doing this, despite his knowing that he won't get what he wants. But still he considers it rude, almost distasteful, because he still somehow considers himself to be Kibum's, still has an inexplicable desire to please him.

But Kibum is hard to please. Nothing seems to be enough.

And this is why it's almost easy for Taemin to let his affections stray: Kibum cannot be pleased and pretends there is nothing between them; the other party, whom some call the Flaming Charisma, is attentive and dotes on Taemin without being overbearing.

For Taemin there is a choice made for him right there, no decisions needed.

So he lets himself stray carefully, secretly (despairedly, tearfully), as he does not want to upset Kibum, for reasons he can't explain. Although it is repeated "it's nothing, it's really nothing" as an endless mantra by the older and Taemin suspects nothing of the double agenda, he expects it is something like a lingering affection for the Almighty Key who had given him the first affection, contact, which he had ever known.

'And it isn't love,' Taemin so stubbornly reminds himself. 'Because Kibum hyung said that it isn't.'

And so he continues to go along with Kibum's every whim, treating it as the most serious game he could ever play.

* * *

_next:insomnia_


	14. passion

And finally, it's winter.

The definition of Taemin and Kibum has not changed but for one thing: passion. Taemin wants Key but thinks he cannot have him; Kibum wants Taemin but doesn't know how to tell him so.

The cold air is suffocating to Taemin when Minho kisses him for the first time, an innocent gesture that he has not yet known.

Kibum stays in the house like a hermit, listening to the far-off sounds of Jinki practicing the piano. He sees Taemin less and less these days and ignores him when he does, but still ies awake in the bunk above the maknae's at night, listening for every inhale and exhale, every shift of the blankets.

_I used to be the one shifting those blankets_, Kibum thinks, and he's bitter. That's when he leaves the room and sleeps on the sofa, because he can't take it.

xv.

The discord in his relationship with Kibum is maddening to Taemin, and he's not sure what he should do.

He knows that there is nothing between him and the Almighty Key but air and desire.

He knows that despite that fact, he still somehow belongs to Kibum.

But he knows also that Choi Minho is a pretty damn good kisser.

* * *

_next:frost_


	15. frost

It's cold, the sky whitewashed to an unforgiving snowstorm hue.

Kibum doesn't know what he's decided to take a walk, but he's glad Taemin has agreed to accompany him into the cold and maybe they can get to know each other again.

It's funny; it's as if neither of them remembers a thing. But it's been more than a month since their last "meeting" and so both know what's on the front of the other's mind.

But the two just walk, not touching, hardly speaking, the white sky framing their wool clad figures as they follow the sidewalk to a large empty park where Taemin lets himself fall into the frozen grass to squint up at the bright blank expanse of sky, a blank sheet. Kibum feels that he'll probably stain in somehow, and he silently follows, lying down so his head touches Taemin's.

"Long time no see, hyung," Taemin says quietly, and Kibum has to agree. It's rather amazing how two people such as Taemin and Kibum who live in the same apartment, sleepy in the same room, can hardly see each other.

Light tufts of snow begin to drift down from the blinding sky and Taemin sticks his tongue out to catch an icy flake. He's silent, mostly because he has no idea how to talk to Kibum.

"How have you been?" He begins.

"Fine," Kibum lies. He has a million questions weighing on his tongue, but he holds steadfast to his one syllable.

_Where have you been_

_ Why haven't I seen you_

_ What have you been doing_

_ Why haven't you looked for me_

"I missed you," He says finally, with a faux casualness that he hopes the younger won't catch.

Taemin nods a little, movements restricted by the layers of clothing around his body.

"I… missed you too," he replies, and although he's been with Minho, it's true. He's biting his lips to keep them warm, but it's also because he's thinking about Kibum's pink bowlike mouth, soft as feathers and beautiful to look at. He misses even being around Kibum, frustrating as he is. It's dizzying, the sheer amount of uncertainty the older inspires.

"Kibum…" Taemin starts again. There is no longer any need for formalities; the two know each other so well. "Kibum, what are we?"

The question hits Kibum like a punch in the stomach, and he swallows hard.

"What… What are we?"

"You always say that we amount to nothing, right? The two of us as one thing? So…" Taemin's voice wavers. "What are we?"

"I suppose… I suppose we're what they call 'friends with benefits,' Taeminnie."

Taemin swallows to prevent his tears before he speaks again. "Oh."

Kibum takes a deep breath. "Yes." _No regrets. You'll only hurt him later, Kibum._

"Well, I wanted to tell you, Kibum," Taemin's words are careful, rehearsed. "I wanted to tell you before you could find out by yourself."

Suddenly, Kibum is afraid. "What is it?"

"Kibum, Minho hyung kissed me. He kissed me, and I kissed him back."

Silence.

"I hope that's okay with you, hyung."

Silence.

"And he said that he likes me… Minho said he wants to stay with me."

Silence.

"Kibum, I just want to make sure it's okay with you."

And then the shock-stricken Kibum feels something rise inside of him and he finds the words suddenly that he had been unable to say push at the edge of his tongue, threatening to spill over. He sits up quickly and pivots himself facing Taemin, looming over him, grabbing the younger's collar with a frightening quickness, his voice rising.

"You think you need my approval is a tall alien like Minho wants in your pants, Taemin? No. You don't. You don't need to ask me for anything. Ever. Because there is nothing between us, Lee Taemin. Nothing. There's never been anything, and there never will be. Nothing at all."

He releases Taemin's collar roughly and lets the maknae fall ot the ground, and then he runs. He runs as fast as he possibly can away from the scene, his limbs cold from laying on the frozen ground, blinking the snowflakes out of his eyes as they come.

And then Kim Kibum cries harder than he's ever cried, his tears freezing cold against his cheeks.

* * *

_next:forget_


	16. forget

And so time passes.

It doesn't do so easily. Each day passes in a thousand years for the both of them, each second oozing by like molasses flowing from a bottle.

Kibum thinks that his tears have probably been used up since that day at the park, but the stains on his pillowcase have faded away. He spends all of his time with Taemin on his mind, though he'd never admit it, and he's not even in the mood to clean or scold Jonghyun for leaving his socks in the bathroom.

Taemin is grateful for Minho and how strong his arms have become, because the maknae has spent more than enough time wrapped up in them, whether he's crying or not.

And this is the difference between an Almighty Key and a Baby Maknae: one will deny his suffering and the other can't handle it by himself.

* * *

_next:checkup_


	17. checkup

And soon, spring bears its face.

The flowers break free of the ice and the sun shakes off the blanket of clouds and Seoul is bathed in tentative warmth.

Without a doubt, this is the longest winter Kibum has ever seen. It isn't until May that the warmth comes, at least a month and a half late.

"Kibum ah," an unlikely voice. "Kibum ah, look, the rain has stopped."

Kibum raises his head, pushes the hair from his eyes.

Jinki's face is pressed to the window, and Kibum thinks maybe he can hear the older's grin from across the room.

An unlikely voice indeed.

"Oh," Jinki exclaims suddenly. "There's Jonghyun. He's soaked." He laughs, which makes Kibum smile.

Kibum doesn't mind hearing Jinki's laugh, but he cannot forget the boy whom he left, the one he abandoned with the snow.

* * *

_next:faulted_


	18. faulted

Yes, he knows it is his fault.  
Maybe if he hadn't doubted, if he hadn't let himself listen to the sweet words of the other, the one who showed him affection when he was starved of it, it wouldn't have happened.  
Yes, Taemin knows it's all his fault.

* * *

_next:pieces_


	19. pieces

There are days Kibum thinks are normal. Normal, real days where he isn't consumed with the sound of the rain or the feel of the cool breeze through the window. Days when he is able to occupy himself enough that he feels that nothing has happened to hurt him.  
It's at these times that he laughs at the irony, the sheer hilarity of the situation.  
It's funny, because Kibum wanted to be the one to pick up Taemin's pieces when he broke, but now it is Kibum who is broken.  
And there is no one there to put him back together.

* * *

_next:nocturne_


	20. nocturne

"Hyung,"  
Minho puts his arm around the thin shoulders of the boy next to him. "Yes?"  
It's dark out, the city lights glinting through the window.  
Without a word, Taemin nestles against Minho's chest with his eyes closed. It's times like these that, Minho has noticed, Taemin lets himself relax, fall almost to the point of sleep.  
"Kibum hyung, it's late."  
It is not any louder than a murmur, and Minho barely hears him.  
Minho takes a moment, gathers himself, and nods.  
"Go to sleep, Taeminnie."

* * *

_next:split_


	21. split

It is the following week the whole of the group is sent on a trip. He could care less where they are going; the only thing that matters to him is that Taemin will be coming.

Taemin will be there.

Taemin, with soft hair and black eyes.

Taemin, whom the director has decided will be sharing a room with Kibum.

"We decided to split the hotel rooms three and two, is that all right?"

Kibum can only nod.

* * *

_next:whisper_


	22. whisper

Key sits with his forehead pressed against the cool glass of the hotel room's window, staring out over the bleak Tokyo skyline.

Smog and rain.

He misses Seoul.

From across the room, Kibum hears the room's door open, the soft footsteps of a person entering.

Kibum decidedly does not move his eyes from the skyline.

Taemin sits down upon the single king-sized bed and folds his hands neatly, facing the wall, away from Kibum.

All is silent, save for the sound of the passing cars in the street below, framed by the steady, wet noise of the rain.

"Hyung." Finally, a whisper."Hyung."

Kibum sucks in a deep mouthful of air and releases it slowly, silently.

"Stop being so formal," he answers.

"K…Kibum, then," Taemin is still whispering, staring holes into the wall.

"Yes?"

Taemin does not reply.

"Don't waste my time, Taemin. If you want to talk to me, say it." Kibum regrets his sharp words as soon as they stain his lips, but still he does not turn around. It is a moment before Taemin says anything at all.

"I … I wanted to see if you would respond,"

The world moves slow suddenly, and Kibum turns his head.

He turns to see that the maknae has done the same, their eyes locked now together again as it had in the beginning.

Hunger. Hungry.

Kibum slides off of the window-seat and lands with his feet on the floor, his fists clenched.

Taemin stares.

The room is silent; the rain is stopped.

* * *

_next:floored_


	23. floored

When Taemin thought about it later, it reminded of him of the first time.

They collide halfway across the room, but this time, their mouths do not touch.

Taemin's hands go straight for Kibum's shoulders to shake him, to force him down, but he is overpowered quickly by Kibum's fingers trapping his wrists, tiny things that Kibum manages to hold in just one hand. With his other hand he pushes Taemin to the ground and holds him there, his knee pressing into Taemin's stomach, as the younger boy thrashes and writhes angrily, simply too thin and weak to stand a chance against Kibum.

"Try calling me hyung one more time," Kibum hisses, breathing into Taemin's ear. Taemin whimpers, an angry sound, and the syllable comes out in a whisper, strained and horrible, and the breath used to utter it grazes Kibum's face, as if to spite him.

"Hyung."

And Kibum slaps him hard across the face.

As soon as he does, Taemin feels a different sort of sting on his reddening cheek, and Kibum had broken into tears.

"Stop crying," Taemin says from beneath Kibum, his tone unusually cold.

Kibum slaps him again, with all the same force as before. "Don't you fucking tell me what to do,"

Taemin's lips pucker slightly, his cheek a deep scarlet, but he does not cry. He won't give Kibum the satisfaction.

"You're nothing, Lee Taemin," Kibum's voice rips through his throat, still nothing more than a murmur, tearing through tears. He shakes Taemin roughly, his fingernails digging into the soft skin of Taemin's shoulders with one hand holding the younger boy's shirt and the other holding him to the ground, pressing him against the hard wood of the floor. Taemin's shoulders have begun to ache, his wrists stinging, his eyes burning. The floor is hard and unforgiving, and Kibum is showing no sign of relenting force.

Taemin closes his eyes.

He is nothing.

* * *

_next:brothers_


End file.
